


Safe in Your Arms

by pinchess07



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And joins Newt on a trip around the world, Credence lives, Fix-It, Fluff, Gen, Graves Lives, Graves has an early midlife crisis, He carries Newt to bed, M/M, One time Newt carries him to bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:34:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9248480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinchess07/pseuds/pinchess07
Summary: For this prompt at the km:5 times Newt fell asleep somewhere and Percival had to carry him to bed and 1 time they got their happy end.Unconsciousness, actual sleep, exhaustion...everthing counts.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Safe in Your Arms在你懷裡](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9308309) by [Jumpfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jumpfish/pseuds/Jumpfish)



> Thank you to SoupShue for cheerleading me on! :)
> 
> There's a Chinese translation here by the awesome Jumpfish: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9308309

He wakes with a pounding headache and the feeling that something furry had died in his mouth the night before. Knowing Theseus Scamander, it's entirely plausible.   
  
He remembers flashes of conversation, of him whining about how the Senior Auror position was full of politics and paperwork--  
  
"--I swear those things multiply every time I look away! I'd much rather be in the field chasing criminals--"  
  
And of how Theseus had been out of his mind worrying about his younger brother--  
  
"--planning on braving the big world alone, intent on rescuing poor creatures, no thought spared for how much _I_ would worry about him--"  
  
But the rest of it is very much a blur. He groans. He's certainly not drinking again with Theseus anytime soon.  
  
He cracks open an eye, ready to cringe at any blinding light waiting for him, but mercifully, the room he's in is in near darkness. There's only dim light seeping through the crack under the door.  
  
His wand is on the bedside table, alongside a glass of water and a potion bottle. He grabs the potion bottle first, uncorking it to the smell of boiled socks and rotten cheese.  
  
Hangover potion, definitely. He pinches his nose before gulping it down. He hurriedly follows it with the glass of water to get rid of the taste.   
  
At least the effects are immediate.   
  
Vitality somewhat restored, he opens the door, only to find--  
  
_Mercy Lewis, why is he on a No-Maj ship?_  
  
At least that explains the odd sensation of the floor swaying beneath his feet, which he'd previously attributed to the hangover. He stumbles back inside his room shakily, trying to scrub the image of the open ocean that he'd seen beyond the ship corridor.  
  
Just what kind of prank does Theseus think he's doing?   
  
He moves to open a cabin window, then thinks better of it and grabs his wand instead.   
  
"Lumos," he casts, and proceeds to search the room for any kind of clue Theseus might have left him.   
  
The room is bare, just a bed, a bedside table, and a lone chair. His gaze settles on the only other thing: a brown leather suitcase lying on its side on the floor.  
  
It better have clothes in it, if Theseus is sending him on some kind of unplanned vacation.  
  
He feels his hangover headache trying to return when he sees a ladder upon opening the thing.  
  
He climbs down warily. Whatever he's expecting, the tiny wooden room was not it. There are shelves everywhere on the walls, only a few of them filled haphazardly.   
  
Various documents decorate the small table, with some maps on top.  
  
There's also a door, which presumably leads... somewhere. He opens it slowly, keeping his wand at the ready.   
  
What he finds inside is a _marvel_ of Undetectable Expansion Charms. He drinks his fill of the view of varied terrains for a good few minutes: a miniature mountain, a desert, a grassy plain, a forest, a swamp... Most of them, like the shelves inside the small shack, are empty, although there are at least three dungbeetles rolling dungballs in the vicinity.  
  
He catches a glimpse of what looks like a tundra when a redheaded man ducks through a flap made to look like its surroundings.  
  
"Newt Scamander, if I'm not mistaken?" Percy asks. The man startles, clearly unaware that he was being watched.   
  
Their eyes meet, and okay, Percy can understand why Theseus worries about his brother now. _He's so young._  
  
Percy vaguely remembers Theseus talking about Newt's unfair expulsion from his seventh year at Hogwarts. He's lacking details, though he's not about to ask Newt for it.   
  
"Yes, Mister Graves," Newt confirms, quickly looking away.   
  
"Just Percy, please. Theseus has talked about you so much I feel like we're already friends," Percy replies. There's a flicker of something in Newt's eyes at the word friends, but Percy's unable to decipher it since Newt quickly looks away.  
  
"...Percy. Thank you for humoring my brother's whims," Newt adds in a monotone. Percy observes the tense line of his body, the curve of his shoulders, his clenched fists. The resentment in Newt's eyes, aimed at nothing in particular as his gaze flits to their surroundings like a particularly energetic butterfly.  
  
"What exactly did Theseus say?" Percy asks delicately. He has a hunch on what Theseus said, and it's clear that Newt didn't agree to it.  
  
"You've so kindly agreed to watch my back as I traipse around the world, _Theseus_ said. Resigned from your post as a Senior Auror with a particularly wordy Howler to the Director of Magical Security. He said you'd much rather be chasing criminals," Newt answers, confirming Percy's hunch.  
  
_Resigned with a Howler?_ Theseus Scamander is the worst sort of influence in the world.   
  
"You... you don't need to stay," Newt offers kindly. "Once we dock in Malaysia, you can go. You were drunk, and judging by your reaction, you weren't a hundred percent on board with my brother's idea. I won't keep you against your will."  
  
Newt looks entirely sincere in what he's saying. He looks... ready to be left alone. There's an air of sadness about him, this man who's barely of age.  
  
Percival considers his _previous_ job. He can't deny he likes being an Auror. It's in his blood. However, after only a little more than three years on the job, he'd been promoted to Senior Auror in an unheard of turn of events.   
  
A reward, they said. Within a day of his new position, he'd been buried in paperwork. Within a month, he'd felt like he'd never again experience the feeling of adrenaline flowing through his veins, enough that he'd taken drastic measures. Namely, firecalling Theseus Scamander.  
  
Percy knows that he would have adjusted to it eventually. But now that he has a choice, albeit one that he never would have thought of...  
  
Well. He'd never dreamed of being a paper pusher or a politician. He's twenty-three. He craves adventure.   
  
"I'm staying," Percival decides out loud. Newt stares at him in disbelief.   
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me. What are we doing in Malaysia?"  
  
"There are... there are rumors of diricawl egg trading going on..." Newt explains weakly, still in shock over Percival's decision.  
  
"All right. What do you know about the operation? How many eggs are we talking about? Where exactly is it being done? Who's doing it?" Percy asks, intent on discovering as much as he can.  
  
Newt shares what little information he knows.   
  
Percy feels the thrill of the chase settle on him like a much-loved cloak.  
  
\--  
  
He feels most at home in a battlefield, amidst curses flying every which way. He doesn't need supersensory charms to know when to instinctively duck, or shield, or dodge. He feels his blood pumping through his veins and savors the feeling of being alive.   
  
He almost regrets finishing the fight, knocking out their last enemy over an overturned table.  
  
He walks briskly as he catches his breath, searching for Newt's blue coat in the surrounding chaos. He'd lost sight of Newt within the first few minutes of the fight.  
  
He's not much of a bodyguard, he admits. He hopes Newt wasn't seriously injured or worse, that would be unfortu--  
  
There! Newt's crouching by a destroyed crate. Percy approaches him slowly, because there's something not quite right in Newt's posture.  
  
"Newt? Are you okay?" Percy asks. Newt flinches, but he stands up, cupping something in his hands.   
  
"We need to go," Newt says, his voice hoarse. Percy does a double take at the tears running down Newt's face.  
  
Newt makes a beeline to the nearest exit, not even waiting for Percy to reply.   
  
Percy curiously takes a look at the crate that Newt was crouching by.   
  
It looks like it had been hit by a Blasting Curse. There's a few tiny pieces of _something_ scattered around, and some odd, wet patches. Mostly it's just debris.  
  
He breaks out into a run after Newt the moment that his brain processes that he's looking at what remained of the diricawl eggs. _Mercy Lewis!_  
  
Newt's nowhere to be found outside, but Percival knew that. He apparates to their warded camp and makes way into Newt's case.  
  
There's only ice in his veins now. How could he have forgotten? How could he have messed things up so badly? Why did he insist on a frontal assault? They really should have sneaked in--  
  
Newt's crouched by a small basket. He's feeding something to one lone diricawl chick, tears still streaming down his face.   
  
"I'm sorry, Newt..." Percy whispers. Newt doesn't react, and Percy feels it like a physical blow.  
  
He'd only just gotten Newt to relax a bit around him. He'd only just gotten Newt to extend a little bit of trust.  
  
\--  
  
Newt doesn't talk to him. He doesn't take more than a few steps away from the diricawl chick, in fact. He feeds it every quarter hour. It's all he does for the next three days. He doesn't eat anything more than a few crackers from his coat pocket.  
  
Percy watches him helplessly. He sees Newt flagging with every hour that passes, exhausted to the bone from lack of sleep, but still so determined to look after the lone diricawl survivor.  
  
He watches Newt drift off for the fifth time in as many minutes, and decides that he's behaved like a kid long enough.  
  
He steps as lightly as possible as he approaches Newt. Newt's hugging his knees to his chest, his chin propped up on his knees.  
  
Newt doesn't move when Percy crouches beside him. He does startle awake once Percy lifts him up.  
  
"What-- What are you--"  
  
"You need to sleep. I'm taking you to the cot outside," Percy explains. Because of course Newt prepared for the creatures but hadn't thought to add at least a bedroom for himself inside the case.  
  
"No, I-- I need to--"  
  
"Please stop struggling or I might drop you. I'll look after the diricawl, Newt. I promise. I've been watching you do it. You need to sleep for a couple of hours," Percy pleads. Newt struggles for a few more moments, before sighing and settling.  
  
"Her name is Sue," he whispers, meeting Percy's eyes for the first time in days. "Please take realy good care of her for me," he adds, eyes wide and sad and vulnerable. "I couldn't protect the rest of them. I can't take it if something happens to her, Percy."  
  
It's somehow more devastating to hear Newt blame himself, rather than blame Percy.  
  
"I will take really, really good care of Sue," Percy promises. Newt smiles wanly and is out like a light before Percy even lays him out on the cot.  
  
\--  
  
Percy gains Newt's trust bit by bit, like ice melting slowly but surely, and he even lets Percy look after Sue a couple more times.  
  
It's the most rewarding thing, befriending Newt Scamander. Each small smile granted from Newt's lips is a trophy Percy hoards. Each time Newt says his nickname without hesitating is a precious memory. Each additional thing he learns about Newt is worth more than gold.  
  
In the last few weeks, Percy has learned that Newt runs on willpower and tea more often than not. He keeps going until he absolutely must sleep, which is usually around three days or so.   
  
He starts sleeping wherever sleep catches up to him as his trust on Percy grows, secure in the knowledge that Percy knew what to do while he was asleep. Percy's caught him asleep with the three mooncalves twice now.  
  
Newt doesn't care for sleeping in unfamiliar  motel beds of dubious cleanliness and unreliable firmness. Percy can't blame him.  
  
It's the main reason why Percy ordered a mattress, although Percy will never admit it out loud. Unfortunately, the way it arrives leaves much to be desired.  
  
"Percy! Theseus sent you something!" Newt hollers from outside the case.  
  
Percy climbs up the ladder eagerly. "Finally! I've been waiting for that for weeks!"  
  
Newt hands him a package. There's a letter attached to it, so Percy opens that first.  
  
"What is it?" Newt asks, feeding Theseus' owl, Maximus, a treat from his coat pocket.  
  
"It's my dragonhide coat, because now I don't have to wear 'proper clothes for a Senior Auror who never goes in the field to get any action'. This will give me more protection in fights, so I asked Theseus to retrieve mine and--" Percival shuts his mouth with a click.  
  
_\--guess I can at least trust you to take care of him when you deflower my brother on this bed, eh? Because you better be taking care of him like you promised, or I--_  
  
What. in. Merlin's. name?   
  
Was Theseus out of his mind?  
  
Percy jumps when he feels a hand on his forehead.  
  
"You're awfully flushed, Percy. Are you okay?" Newt asks. Of course this would be the time Newt decides that personal space wasn't important. Of course.  
  
"Fine! I'm fine. Just a joke Theseus wrote," Percy croaks, too aware that Newt is only an arm's length away. He's never minded before, not that Newt often comes close like this. Not to purposefully get close to Percy anyway. Damn Theseus for _insinuating..._  
  
Newt makes a grab for the letter in Percy's hand, but Percy's thankfully faster reflexes keep Newt from getting a hold of it. They end up almost chest to chest, and Percy can feel Newt's body warmth through his clothes.  
  
"Sorry. It's a really dirty joke," Percy forces out through gritted teeth, taking several steps back at the same time. He crumples the letter and pulls out his wand to light it on fire for good measure  before Newt can make another grab for it.  
  
Newt blinks confusedly. "Alright, if you say so."  
  
Crisis averted. Newt still hasn't added a bedroom to the case, so admittedly, Percy doesn't have anywhere to put it. A bedroom is a very low priority on Newt's list.   
  
He still hesitates to unshrink it, Theseus' words flashing in his mind. He doesn't have any... _impure_ thoughts about Newt. His only intention was to provide Newt some comfort because surely he'd prefer sleeping in an actual bed compared to the hard ground?   
  
He wasn't planning on sleeping in it. At all. Especially not while Newt is in it.   
  
He wanders through the enclosures in the case, procrastinating in the guise of searching for the best location to put the bed in.  
  
By the time he ends up in the mooncalf territory, Newt is already snoozing by a mooncalf's side.  
  
Percy sighs.   
  
_As if there was ever any question._  
  
He unshrinks the king-sized bed right there. The mooncalves nose at it curiously, except for the one Newt's sleeping against.   
  
"Violet," Percy greets her. "Let me take Newt, okay? I'm just gonna move him to the bed over there."  
  
Violet snuffles agreeably, so Percy lifts Newt into his arms with a grunt. Newt doesn't wake-- another sign of trust that Percy cherishes.  
  
When he turns back to the bed, he can't help but snort at the sight of the other two mooncalves making themselves at home in it.  
  
"Marion, Svelte, off! I ordered that for Newt, you know," Percy whispers, shooing them away gently. They give a few token protesting snuffles, but eventually make way for their human caretakers.  
  
Newt curls up into a ball when Percy places him on the bed.  
  
_Like... Like he's making himself a smaller target._  
  
Percy strokes his back gently until Newt uncurls into a more relaxed curve resembling an apostrophe.  
  
_There's nothing that would attack you here. You're safe. I'll keep you safe._  
  
He manages to detach his hand from Newt's back somehow. As soon as Percy gets off the bed, Marion takes his place beside Newt, nudging Newt gently until the redhead snuggles up close. Violet and Svelte take their place of honor beside the bed, deciding not to crowd Newt further.  
  
Percy starts his rounds, keeping his promise in mind.  
  
\--

He makes mistakes and breaks that promise, a year later.  
  
He underestimates the two graphorn hunters they run into. They are more familiar with the terrain, and they use it to  their maximum advantage.   
  
Newt is herding the last pair of graphorns into his case and doesn't see the Blasting Curse coming his way. He doesn't have time to dodge; Percy doesn't have time to put up a shield. He's on the opposite side of the outcropping where Newt is.  
  
By some miracle, the Blasting Curse misses Newt.   
  
Only to hit the rocks beside him-- and it's a sharp rock fragment that hits Newt's head. Newt goes down hard, immediately unconscious.  
  
Percy feels himself moving faster, chain-casting hexes and curses and jinxes in a fury. Not fast enough. Why had he left Newt's side? Why had they let the graphorn hunters separate them?  
  
Finally one hunter falls to a vicious slice on the leg. The other hunter cries in outrage, but Percy takes advantage of the small moment distraction. Two fast Stunners in their direction and the fight is over.   
  
He sprints to Newt's side.  
  
The blood is distracting, but he keeps his head. He casts several diagnostic charms and breathes easier when he's sure that Newt's only unconscious and concussed at worst.   
  
He carries Newt slowly to their warded camp a few meters away, the case levitating after them.  
  
\--  
  
"I don't have time for dueling practice," Newt whines a couple of days later, with good reason. The two newly rescued graphorns are not settling smoothly into their habitat in Newt's case.   
  
"Not right now, no. I know you're going to prioritize the graphorns for a while. But you need to make time for it later, Newt," Percy implores him. The cut on Newt's head is healing well, and the giant bump is mostly gone, though still tender.  
  
Percy doesn't fancy Newt being caught unawares again.  
  
"Percy..."  
  
"Newt. Listen. Please. You were caught off guard in a situation where you couldn't afford to be. That's why you need practice. What if I didn't know how to handle the new beasts in your place, Newt? What if you get struck by something really dangerous next time? Please," Percy begs.   
  
"I don't like--"  
  
"Then we'll just practice dodging! Train your reflexes and battle-awareness. Please, Newt..."  
  
Newt actually meets his gaze longer than a few seconds.  
  
"I'll think about it," Newt promises softly, finally averting his gaze. It takes him two months and another injury before he asks Percy for a practice duel.  
  
He knows Newt doesn't like fighting for the sake of fighting, not like Percy does. But Percy can't take the thought of Newt getting hurt.  
  
So he doesn't focus on polishing Newt's attacks. He focuses on defense, on making use of Newt's preference for movement. He even manages to convince Newt to practice Apparition in the midst of battle.  
  
Percy's more than good enough to be the attacker in any situation, anyway.  
  
Newt ends up in possession of a Swooping Evil a week later and Percy incorporates that into Newt's style as well.  
  
\--  
  
Newt's twenty-third birthday comes and goes, and they're a well-oiled machine by then.   
  
They're both under Disilllusionment charms, crouching unnoticed a little ways away from a barn.   
  
"Homenum Revelio," Percy casts, having already dismantled all the other wards around.  
  
"Six of them inside, four in the ground floor and two in the hayloft above. The Abraxan is right under the hayloft. There's only one near its position. The other three are having some kind of meeting. Or they're playing cards," Percy relays. Newt nods and moves to circle around the back.  
  
Percival takes the frontal assault, distracting the men while Newt quietly casts Cutting Hexes on the wall behind the bar, making a hole only big enough to wiggle through.    
  
He stays crouched low, keeping to the shadows. Percy's only able to notice his blurry outline through experience.  
  
There's the familiar click of a lock unlocking-- Pickett's part of the job-- that the smugglers don't pay attention to. They're a bit too busy trying to weather Percy's barrage of spells.  
  
Only a few seconds later, the winged Abraxan vanishes from sight, followed by a small pop, and then Percy's free to really let go. The possibility of the horse getting hit with a stray spell is gone and he relishes the chance to let loose.  
  
He doesn't aim to kill, not really. More often than not, the bad guys they meet have bounties on their heads, and so Percy aims to capture and subdue them when possible.   
  
He takes a little more than five minutes to have all six bound and stunned. He goes to their own warded camp and climbs down the case to check on Newt. He's fine, busy tending to the mare's broken leg, so Percy goes back up.   
  
He takes care of delivering the six men to the local authorities, and remembers in time that winged Abraxans like single malt whiskey. He buys several bottles before he goes back to the case.  
  
"Not while she's injured," Newt declares upon seeing the whiskey bottles, making Percy pause.  
  
"Oh," Percy mutters in disappointment.   
  
Newt pats the mare's flank. "Erika will be fine in about a week or so, don't worry."  
  
"Right. I'll just put these away for now," Percy agrees, but Newt grabs his hand to stop him.  
  
"We could have a bit, if you like," he adds, much to Percy's surprise.  
  
Newt's still full of surprises, after all this time.   
  
"I thought you didn't drink. I've never seen you drunk in all the time we've been together," Percy admits.   
  
"With Theseus as a brother, it's impossible to not be exposed to alcohol sooner or later. I don't really like it much. But... you thoughtfully bought it, and... I thought we could celebrate in Erika's place!" Newt chirps happily after downing his first shot.  
  
And he doesn't stop talking.  
  
"Me and Theseus had a race, once! On hippogriffs! Mother was furious, because we'd de-roofed half the manor, and the greenhouse was never the same after that," Newt admits with a giggle. "We were also only dressed in enlarged tea cosies, so it was a bit chilly. Father wouldn't let us change until we'd fixed all the damage the next day."  
  
"I love hippogriffs, you know? I was named after three! Way better than flying on broomsticks. I nearly fell off a broomstick once, Theseus had to do some quick thinking! He's really good at that-- saving me! That's probably why he's an Auror. He's so used to saving people. There's a woman he saved, once, she kept trying to put her hands on him while they were in front of Theseus' super-superior-supervisor--"  
  
Two shots into the single malt whiskey, Percy realizes Newt's already well and truly drunk. Judging by his hippogriff story, he prone to doing stupid things while intoxicated, so Percy decides to cut him off early. It's dangerous to be drunk and uncontrollable inside the case.  
  
Percy half-walks, half-carries him to the bed by the mooncalves. Three-quarters of the way through, Newt's legs stop working entirely, so Percy reaches under his knees and heaves him up in a well-practiced movement.   
  
Newt giggles and latches on to Percy's shirt, but his eyes are closed.  
  
The mooncalves, now up to five, all eye them curiously. The youngest, Ollie, goes and sticks his face right onto Newt's, licking Newt's face and making him sneeze.  
  
Percy laughs so hard he ends up losing his balance, and so the two of them tumble down to the bed haphazardly. Urich, the second youngest, decides to join in on Ollie's fun-- and slobbers all over Percy.  
  
The other three mooncalves are making odd wheezing noises, and Percy could swear they're laughing.  
  
Okay, Percy's a bit tipsy. He hasn't had a drop of alcohol since that day before his adventure with Newt started. How long ago was that? Five? No, six years. Time flew faster than an Abraxan being chased by a dragon.   
  
The bed's really soft, and the even breathing... is... really... calming...  
  
He wakes disoriented sometime in the night. He struggles to get up, but there's a heavy weight in his chest, and there's some extra limbs attached to his middle. And just how many feet does he actually have, because--  
  
"Go back to sleep, Percy," Newt mumbles right into Percy's neck. Percy jumps in surprise.  
  
"Newt?! What-- You, uh--"  
  
"Hmmm... Sleep, Percy. It's fine."  
  
Dammit, Newt's warm breath is driving him crazy. He tries to wriggle out of Newt's embrace, only for Newt to squeeze him harder.  
  
"Stop moving so much," Newt demands, eyes squinted at him angrily.  
  
"... Right," Percy mumbles faintly. This is all probably a dream.   
  
\--  
  
In the morning after, Percy wakes to Newt's head pillowed on his chest, right above his heart.  
  
"Good morning," Newt greets him, without looking up.  
  
"Oh. Newt... Good morning," Percy replies nervously.   
  
Over the years, he's noticed quite a few things about Newt. Like how he's skittish around other people, like he had been to Percy in the beginning. Like how he doesn't really react to romantic overtures, no matter how subtle or blunt it is, whether it's from a woman or a man. He'd be his usual awkward self if it's subtle-- it goes right over his head.  
  
He'd be embarrassed and even more skittish if it's blunt. He honestly doesn't know what to do about compliments to his person. He'd change the subject, and he'd only blurt out a very polite denial if pressed.  
  
Percy had taken it as a very large sign that Newt didn't want anything to do with sex or relationships in general. He respected it.  
  
So even though he'd very gradually fallen in love with Newt, he hadn't planned on ever making a move, or making his feelings known. Because the friendship they had was already more than he could ever hope for. Because he didn't want to ruin anything.   
  
He probably hadn't ruined anything last night. Nothing happened, anyway. They just fell asleep.   
  
In a bed.   
  
Together.  
  
Newt was the one hugging him, anyway. How long had be been awake? Why wasn't he getting off...?  
  
"Percy?" Newt asks.  
  
"Yes?" Percy's well aware that Newt must be able to hear Percy's heartbeat from his position. Percy's heart is _pounding._  
  
"How come you stayed?"  
  
"What...?"  
  
_Where did that come from?_  
  
"When this started, all those years ago. We hardly knew one another. I told you that you're free to go. You didn't have to stay and babysit your best friend's baby brother. But... you stayed," Newt explains. "And you haven't tried to leave. Not even once. I don't understand."  
  
"Ah. That. You looked lonely, so I thought you might want some company..."  
  
Newt scrambles up to a sitting position. The expression on his face is inscrutable, and Percy feels the keen loss of Newt's upper body on his chest.  
  
"That pathetic, huh?" The laugh that accompanies Newt's exclamation is a sad, bitter thing.  
  
_This is exactly what I was afraid of..._  
  
Newt flinches away when Percy reaches out to him.  
  
"Lonely, but not pathetic. I've never once in my life thought that you were pathetic, Newt. And that was only at the beginning. As I got to know you better, my reasons changed. Now..."  
  
Percy cradles Newt's cheeks with his hands, needing Newt to meet his eyes and see how serious he is.  
  
"Now, I stay because there's nowhere else I'd rather be," Percy states firmly.   
  
"...Really?" Hope and uncertainty are warring in Newt's expression.   
  
"Yes. Really, Newt," Percy confirms.   
  
Newt's uncertainty is muted, not gone, but for the time being, it's replaced by amazement.   
  
He's smiling shyly as Percy pulls him in for a hug.  
  
\--  
  
The bed becomes _their_ bed, once Percy starts sleeping there instead of the crappy beds in whatever motel room they've rented. Half the time Ollie or Urich joins them. Newt still only sleeps about once every three days, but he does cuddle with Percy as often as he can.  
  
The cuddles are the highlights of Percy's nights.  
  
\--

He notices immediately, of course, when Newt stops going to bed entirely.  
  
They stumble over an Obscurial in Sudan. Most of their rescue operations are planned, and so is the one they original went to Sudan for: a fwooper smuggling ring.  
  
But they can't plan for every eventuality. Neither of them even believed it was an Obscurial, at first. The last Obscurus was seen hundreds of years ago, and they're considered extinct.  
  
So when they hear rumors of a black fog/sand/wind/cloud thing that decimated a small block of Muggle houses in Khartoum, the last thing they're expecting is an Obscurial.  
  
A small girl, who can't be older than seven, chained and displayed in the middle of the town square, receiving the beating of her life from a scared and angry mob.  
  
Parts of her body shift into blackness every few seconds: her right foot, her left elbow, her right hand.  
  
Newt runs, casting an over-powered Muggle Repelling Charm, scattering and dispersing the mob in seconds.  
  
Percy casts the rest of their usual wards, and by the time he's done, Newt's finished with his slew of Diagnostic Charms.  
  
He looks grim.  
  
"Newt?"  
  
"The Obscurus is blocking everything. It's interfering with my magic," Newt replies flatly, looking down at the unconscious girl in his arms. Pickett had already unlocked her chains.  
  
"So how do we stop it from interfering? Is there a way to remove the Obscurus from the Obscurial?" Percy asks, feeling helpless as he watches the girl breathe shallowly. It's very possible that she had broken ribs and a punctured lung, and more besides, but if Diagnostic Charms don't work, it's very likely any healing charms won't work either.  
  
Newt clenches his jaw, looking away. "There is something that may work..."  
  
"...But?" Percy demands, gently laying a hand on Newt's shoulder. "Why are you hesitating?"  
  
"The Obscurus might be the only reason why she's alive, Percy," Newt whispers. Percy inhales sharply.  
  
He wraps an arm around Newt's torso. "It's our only chance. She'll die if we don't do anything. So we better try, Newt."  
  
Newt nods.   
  
\--  
  
"She died smiling, you know," Percy murmurs. Newt doesn't react from where he's standing, staring at nothing. Dougal is holding his hand, had been holding his hand since they went back to the case, Obscurus in an isolation bubble, Obscurial girl dead and buried in the town cemetery in a grave they dug.  
  
Dougal pulls, and Newt follows after a little resistance. He still doesn't say anything. Percy shadows him as he makes his usual rounds and feeds everyone.  
  
His movements are mechanical and entirely automatic, and if Percy didn't witness what happened, he would have thought a Dementor Kissed Newt.  
  
He can't help but worry. This isn't the first time a rescue had gone wrong. For every beast Newt is able to help, there are at least a hundred more who die by the day. He's seen Newt cry in the wake of so much death, but... this is different.  
  
If he wasn't doing his chores like usual, Percy would think he's catatonic.  
  
Shock, then.  
  
_He'll come out of it sooner or later._  
  
So Percy watches and waits, ready for when Newt finally breaks down.  
  
It takes Newt four days. Four days of Percy alone in their bed.  
  
Percy hears a loud crash of broken china from the shack, and he runs towards it expecting the worst.   
  
Newt's just staring at the broken teapot on the ground. Percy mutters a quick Reparo to take care of it before approaching Newt slowly.  
  
"Newt, hey," Percy whispers, daring to move close enough to touch, but not yet touching.  
  
"I don't think she even knew what proper tea tastes like," Newt croaks, voice breaking at the word _she._  
  
He leans his head on Percy's shoulder and finally starts crying. Newt's tears soak the fabric of Percy's shirt while Percy rubs Newt's back in small circles.  
  
"There... There's so... so much... that she'll... _never_... see," Newt sobs, clenching his fists on Percy's shirt. "She... was... _so young._ How could... humans be... so bloody _cruel?_ "  
  
Percy lets him rage, lets him grieve. His own eyes are wet with tears, but he knows Newt always feels the deaths more keenly. They stand entwined with each other in the shack for an eternity.  
  
Eventually, the tears die out. They're both exhausted, Newt especially since he hasn't slept for two days. He still refuses when Percy asks him if he wants to go to bed.  
  
He smiles wanly. "You think I'll be able to sleep? All that's waiting for me are nightmares, Percy."  
  
Percy shakes his head. "We have sleeping potions, you know."  
  
"Since when?" Newt asks, although he's already waving his wand to summon it. A potion bottle flies to his hand from one of the cupboards.  
  
"Since I  thought we needed a complete first aid kit, a couple of years ago. I restock them regularly," Percy explains. Newt eyes him while uncorking the bottle.  
  
"You brewed this?"  
  
"I _bought_ it at a Theseus-approved source," Percy states. Newt nods and gulps it down, falling into an instant, deep sleep. Percy hurriedly catches him before he hits his head on the floor.  
  
"I didn't mean you have to drink it right away," Percy gripes fondly. He heaves Newt into his arms with a huff and walks down the familiar path to the mooncalves and their bed.  
  
\--  
  
It takes Newt about five months to stop staring into space, but Percy knows that they would both always keep a sharp eye out for events resembling the one in Sudan.  
  
Newt studies the Obscurus in the tundra enclosure sometimes. Percy watches worriedly, but he doesn't keep Newt from doing it. They need the information all the information they can get.   
  
They need to know what to do the next time.  
  
\--  
  
Percy doesn't know why, but receiving two owls that morning feels like a bad omen. Every instinct he has tells him something bad is about to happen. He watches Newt open the letter from one of his contacts before he turns to his own.  
  
The letter in Percy's hand is from Theseus. When he opens the envelope, he finds two pieces of paper.   
  
The first page only has seven words in it, written in an unusually messy scrawl and a heavy hand, like Theseus was in a hurry when he wrote it. It says: _FIRECALL ME AS SOON AS YOU CAN._  
  
The foreboding feeling doubles, and Percy slowly turns to the second page. It's the front page of the Daily Prophet, and the headline blares **PERCIVAL GRAVES APPOINTED AS YOUNGEST DIRECTOR OF MAGICAL SECURITY OF MACUSA!** Under it, it says, _Americans finally losing their marbles?_  
  
The rest of the page is dominated by a large picture of Seraphina Picquery shaking hands with... someone who's not Percy.  
  
The man in the picture bears a very good resemblance to him, however. There's confidence and superiority in the man's posture. The man's hair is slicked back and shorn at the sides, a parody of Muggle military-regulation hairstyles. There's even a bit of graying at his temples. The man's face is serious and solemn, appearing to take the importance of his new position to heart.   
  
He's also wearing some rather striking formal garb, and he appears more at home in it that Percy had ever been. He becomes acutely aware of his beloved dragonhide coat, the one he's wearing right now, in fact, still his favorite after all this years.  
  
It feels like looking at a distorted reflection in the mirror. It's very plausible that Percival Graves might have turned out to be like that, if Percy hadn't decided to have his midlife crisis early.  
  
He's nowhere near as polished. His hair is comfortably disheveled, for he had long ago accepted the fact that it doesn't matter in his current line of work. He has a five o' clock stubble on his jaw for the same reason.   
  
And most importantly, his eyes are nowhere near as cold as _that_ man's eyes. Though he has gone through his share of rough times with Newt, he has also enjoyed the rest of it. There are faint traces of crow's feet by his eyes, which show more prominently when he's laughing at something or other that Newt said or did.  
  
It puts his decision to stay with Newt in perspective. It assures him that he had made the _right_ choice.  
  
This turn of events is more than a little alarming.   
  
"We need to go to New York," he says, at the same time Newt opens his mouth to declare, "We need to go to New York."

They blink at each other in stunned silence. Percy motions for Newt to go first. Newt nods grimly.  
  
"Two Muggle properties destroyed by a black wind. No casualties yet, but..."  
  
"An Obscurus..." Percy breathes.   
  
"Most probably, yes. And... you?" Newt asks. Percy hands him the newspaper page. Newt inhales sharply, clenching his knuckles where he's gripping the paper.  
  
"We need to firecall Theseus at first opportunity as well. He probably has some kind of plan," Percy notes.  
  
"I'll get us tickets for the next available ship to New York. You firecall Theseus," Newt agrees, moving swiftly to exit the case. Percy snatches his arm as he passes by.  
  
"We'll go to Arizona after, okay? Frank will understand the delay, I'm sure," Percy states, squeezing Newt's arm gently. Newt huffs, some tension leeching off his frame.  
  
"Right. But that's a terrible cover, all told. I'm sure we'll be accosted by MACUSA Aurors at some point. We'll tell them we're there for some Appaloosa puffskeins."  
  
"You'll tell them, not _we_ ," Percy corrects. "I certainly won't be parading my face in MACUSA when there's an impostor running around wearing it. I'll investigate the Obscurus, you go poking about in MACUSA. _Merlin,_ I can't believe I just said that. But we need more information. It's likely that Theseus doesn't have an in-depth understanding of the situation yet, since he's in Britain. We'll probably be discussing the Woolsworth building layouts and such."  
  
"Send the hapless magizoologist in to spy, what a wonderful plan. I assume I'm to let myself be arrested by Aurors?" Newt teases, trying to lighten the situation up.   
  
"If that's what it takes," Percy sighs, shaking his head in exasperation. Newt nods in agreement. This time, when he moves to climb the exit ladder, Percy follows him, intent on locating a convenient fireplace to establish a Floo connection to Theseus' office.  
  
Strictly speaking, it's not legal. But Percy has long ago made peace with doing things against the law when the situation calls for it. Compared to what else he and Newt had done over the years, an illegal Floo connection is just a tiny drop in the ocean.  
  
\--  
  
Everything goes absolutely pear-shaped, of course. When they get off the ship, Percy immediately heads to an unoccupied alley to Disillusion himself. He adds a Notice-Me-Not Charm for good measure. He keeps to the shadows as Newt makes his meandering way vaguely to the direction of the Woolsworth building.  
  
Who does he stumble into? The Graves impostor, that's who. It would have been fine, except there's another man with him-- a man who could somehow see through Percy's Disillusionment and Notice-Me-Not Charms.  
  
Of course the impostor is tipped of, what with how surprised the other man is. The impostor's first reaction is to fire off a Blasting Curse to his general location which Percy barely dodges.  
  
Percy loses track of time in the ensuing duel, though the way the other man cowers in a corner doesn't escape his notice.  
  
_Why doesn't he pull out his wand and join the fight, if he's on the impostor's side?_  
  
Percy deflects a Bone-Melting Curse and fires back two Cutting Curses in quick succession, slowly circling his way over to the man.  
  
There's an idea in his mind, something about how the man had seen through him effortlessly. Something about diagnostic charms not working, which was a stray thought fragment that he wants to focus on but can't, because his opponent is really fucking good at dueling, and really powerful.  
  
Theseus' guess that the impostor was Grindelwald was getting likelier by the minute.  
  
_Where's Newt? And MACUSA? Someone should have noticed the spellfire by now._  
  
Following that thought, Percy shoots out a wide blast of purple fire, which the impostor easily shields against. It doesn't matter, though. Percy only used it to catch Newt's attention, if he's in any place to see.  
  
The impostor retaliates by turning the whole street into quicksand. Percy turns to apparate, sees the other man struggling in the corner, and changes target location to him instead. He pops in, praying the man wouldn't get splinched, grabs his arm, and pops into a rooftop of a nearby building. The man gasps, looking like he'd very much like to upchuck whatever he'd eaten that day.  
  
The impostor apparates to the opposite rooftop.  
  
"Why save him? He's a useless boy," the imposter taunts, sending sharp glass icicles in Percy's direction. Percy casts the purple fire again, this time in defense, melting the ice. When he glances at the man in the corner of his eye, the man looks devastated and betrayed and heartbroken. He looks so young, and so lost.   
  
Percy grits his teeth and reminds himself that he has a duel to finish. Hugging and comforting were Newt's job.  
  
The impostor tsks, clearly irked that Percy wasn't engaging him in conversation. "Let me show you what real fire is!" he shouts, and proceeds to cast _Fiendfyre.  
  
Shit._  
  
Percy grabs the man beside him, hastily apparating out of the line of the monstrous shapes of the dark spell.  
  
They land on a different rooftop, watching helplessly as a fire dragon demolishes a whole street of No-Maj establishments. The man cries out a desperate "No!" beside him, clutching his arm tightly.  
  
Percy pulls him close, afraid that the man might jump off the rooftop.   
  
"Is that all the real Percival Graves can do?" the impostor taunts again. "Run away? The stories I heard about you made you seem much more impressive!"  
  
Distinct popping sounds herald the arrival of MACUSA Aurors in the street below them, all in a panic due to the unstoppable Fiendfyre. Percy tries to look for Newt's blue coat, but then, the man beside him gives a heart-wrenching cry and throws himself off the edge of the roof, toward the impostor's direction. He turns to black wind-sand halfway through his fall, and goes straight for the impostor.  
  
Several alarmed cries of "Director Graves!" and "Sir!" echo around them as the Aurors hesitate to fire, scared of hitting the impostor while he was enclosed in the blackness of the Obscurus.  
  
There's a vicious flare of light and magic, and a very loud pop. The impostor reappears at a fair distance away, crouched on a water tank on the top of a rooftop.  
  
His disguise has been leeched away, and Grindelwald looks even paler than normal. There are bluish veins visible under his skin, effects of exposure to the Obscurus.  
  
Percy looks back to the black cloud, only to see the man already partially corporeal. His tears glisten as they fall from his eyes.  
  
Percy hesitates. He needs to subdue Grindelwald somehow-- the MACUSA Aurors below are of absolutely no help-- but he also needs to help the Obscurial. He needs to take him away from the fight.  
  
Grindelwald, with a strangely triumphant and greedy look on his face, makes the choice for Percy as he aims his wand at the Obscurial. Percy apparates right in time to prevent the Obscurial from getting hit, but Grindelwald's spell glances his arm.   
  
Percy's expecting pain, really, but he feels the sudden onset of drowsiness instead. _Grindelwald was looking to subdue the Obscurus...?_ was his last thought as he drops unceremoniously from the rooftop.  
  
\--  
  
He wakes in Newt's arms several _hours_ later, apparently missing everything of importance: how Newt had flown in to save the day on Frank's back, catching him as he fell; how Theseus and the contingent of Aurors from various European countries had portkeyed in not a minute later, turning the tide of the fight to their favor; how Frank's enchanted rain had weakened the Fiendfyre and allowed the Aurors to finally extinguish it; and how the swooping evil venom had been diluted and scattered through Frank's rain to help wipe the memories of No-Majs who witnessed the event.  
  
"Grindelwald's in custody. He's being guarded by some of Theseus' lot. He doesn't trust anyone from MACUSA, which is perfectly understandable," Newt concludes, running a hand through Percy's hair. Newt was sitting up in their bed, and Percy's head was in his lap.  
  
"First, what happened to the Obscurial, and second, why didn't you wake me earlier?" Percy asks worriedly.  
  
"His name's Credence. He's upstairs, actually. We're in the Goldsteins' apartment, I met Tina and her sister Queenie and they've been helping. A lot. Turns out Tina knows Credence. It's a bit of a long story, I'll tell you later. I also met a _fantastic_ Muggle named Jacob-- I'll introduce you later," Newt answers.   
  
"You didn't answer my second question," Percy whispers quietly. Newt inhales shakily.  
  
"I thought... I thought I didn't make it in time. Seeing you fall like that...It... It was rather unsettling. I wanted to calm down first, before I woke you," Newt admitted.  
  
"In other words, you didn't want me to see you distressed. Newt..." Percy murmurs, reaching up to cup Newt's cheek with his palm.  
  
Newt bows his head to nuzzle into it.  
  
"I'm sorry. Now I know how you feel when I get hurt. I'll be more careful,  I promise. You have to be more careful too, though I suppose there were extenuating circumstances this time," Newt offers with a small smile.  
  
"I would much rather be awake to help you through it, next time. Newt, you shouldn't have suffered through that alone for several hours. We'll both be more careful, okay?"  
  
Newt nods, moving so that he was lying beside Percy on the bed, head pillowed on Percy's chest.   
  
"Theseus is handling the cleanup admirably. He's in his element. I know I promised to tell you everything else that happened, but I'd much rather sleep with you, if that's okay?" Newt asks, yawning widely in the middle. Percy hums in response and hugs Newt closer. There's time to think about everything else in the morning, but for now, all that matters is Newt in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> My foray into (slightly) longer fics. *sigh*  
> I'd love to know what you think :)


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